


reap what you sow (let the games begin)

by xTarmanderx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, LOTS of violence, M/M, Minor Character Deaths, Thiam doesn’t die, tags will be updated as I go, your faves might die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24154498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xTarmanderx/pseuds/xTarmanderx
Summary: Deep in his gut, Theo’s always known he was meant for the games. He would become a victim to them, just as his sister had been. He just never expected it to be by his own choice. In another district, Liam believed he'd never actually be chosen. He was a son of high standing. His friends had aged out, so why wouldn't he? The odds were in his favor, but his name was pulled just the same. When they met for the first time, Theo knows he’s not going to make it out of the games alive. And Liam’s determined to make it home at any cost.
Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken
Comments: 49
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Auddieliz09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auddieliz09/gifts).



> I need to give the biggest shoutout in the world to Autumn. She has spent hours helping me outline this fic. She has bargained for some of your favorite characters to live. She has pushed and encouraged me and helped shape this fic into what it is. There aren’t enough words to say thank you. 
> 
> I also owe a shoutout to Callum for the title, thank you so much! You’re magical and I hope you’ll enjoy this, I know how long you’ve been waiting for it.

“The reaping is coming.” Brett’s voice is so soft, Theo almost doesn’t hear him. He tips his head back against the couch and lets out an acknowledging hum, waiting for the other boy to speak his mind. He’s known Brett long enough to know there’s more to it than that. “One week. It’s one week before…” he trails off with a tight voice and Theo opens his eyes. 

“Before Josh will be nineteen,” he finishes. At nineteen, Josh will be safe. For as long as Theo’s been alive, there have been reapings. Tributes between the ages of twelve and eighteen, sacrifices for the pleasure of the rest of the continent. Every year when it’s time for the reaping, Theo’s heart seizes up. When Brett had been chosen at the age of 15, Theo had almost volunteered himself. He had been terrified of losing his best friend, but Brett had made him promise. No matter what happened, they weren’t to volunteer for each other. That was the rule. Brett had come back by a miracle and Theo had been grateful. It meant he didn’t have to be alone anymore. He’d already lost one loved one to the games, he would be damned to lose another.

“I want to propose.” Brett murmurs. “When...when he doesn’t get picked. I want to fucking marry him on the spot.”

“You should.” Theo’s lips twitch into a faint grin. “Can you believe it? In just a few days, we’ll be free of this hell.” He doesn’t believe it, not deep down. He knows that Brett doesn’t either. Just because Brett is safe doesn’t mean that anyone else in his life is in the same boat. He’s still got a little sister that will be eligible for the next two years.

“What if he gets picked?” Brett exhales shakily and at that Theo turns his head. His friend is scrubbing at his eyes, refusing to look at him.

“He won’t.” Theo says because what else can he say? It’s been a risk for the last two years that Josh and Brett have been dating. They just need to make it through this final reaping. “Hey, do you want to go with me to the market? I was thinking about picking up some stuff and cooking dinner for all of us.”

“Can’t tonight.” Brett says with a weak laugh. “Dinner at Satomi’s.” 

“Ah.” Theo bobs his head at that and glances at the window. Three more sunsets before this is all over. He can picture having dinner with his best friends, drinking champagne they’ve stolen from Satomi’s cupboard as they laugh and cry into the night. “Three days,” he whispers. “In no time, you’ll be proposing and Lori and Satomi will be so happy. Have you picked out a ring?” He asks.

“Custom made.” Brett pulls a small box from his pocket and tosses it across the coffee table. Theo catches it without looking up, bringing it in front of him and opening it. It’s a stunning black band with intricate silver and purple lightning bolts wrapping around it. “Represents the night we met.” Brett says. Theo nods, tilting the ring toward the light to get a better look. He remembers how they met. Trapped in one of the worst storms of the year, they’d bunkered down in an abandoned building and stayed there until dawn. Satomi had torn into Brett for being out all night, but Theo knew she had been relieved.

“He’s going to love it.” Theo offers the box back across the table and turns himself back to face Brett. “I should get going.” He sighs, getting to his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You can stay if you need a place.” Brett tells him. Shaking his head, Theo wipes his hands against his thighs and steps around the coffee table.

“Need to make sure he’s still breathing.” Theo mutters. “Say hi to Josh for me.” He says, heading for the door.

“I’ll leave the back door unlocked, just in case.” Brett calls after him. Hiding a smile, Theo nods and opens the door. There’s a small breeze that greets him and he welcomes it, tipping his head toward the sky before he descends the stairs. It’s not far from the Victor’s Village to his home. He sees a few familiar faces as he goes and he smiles politely, trying not to flinch each time he’s asked how his father is doing.

He swings by the shop next to his building and buys a loaf of bread and sandwich meat before he makes his way home. The tv is on as he opens the front door and he wrinkles his nose as he steps inside. “Dad, I’m home.” He says, kicking the door shut. There’s not an answer and he sighs, setting down the groceries on the kitchen counter before entering the living room. His dad is sprawled across the couch, half-lidded gaze focused on the news that’s playing. It’s the same recording that’s always on loop. Theo reaches for the remote to pause it, the screen freezing on Tara’s somber face. “Come on, you need to eat.”

“Ate this morning,” his father says hoarsely. Theo knows he’s telling the truth. He’d shoved a bowl of oatmeal in front of the man and watched him eat before leaving for the day. But Theo knows that the food has long since left his belly and alcohol has filled its place.

“I’m going to make sandwiches.” Theo tells him. “Why don’t you go shower and food will be ready when you’re out?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I wasn’t asking if you were. You’re going to shower and sit down and eat with me.” Theo says firmly. He helps his father onto his feet, gently squeezing his upper arm before letting him go off to the bedroom. As the door clicks shut, Theo begins to clear away the empty beer bottles littering their coffee table. He takes out the garbage when it’s full and sprays air freshener around the room when he returns. It’s not perfect, but it no longer smells like something had died in their living room. He peels back the curtains to let in the last fragments of sunlight and cuts on every light. The tv gets turned off as well without a second glance and Theo goes to the kitchen to make their dinner.

They eat in silence at the table and Theo can almost picture it’s just like any other night. He collects the dishes and washes up, taking extra time to scrub down the countertops. He almost believes his dad has gone to bed, but his shadow fills the entryway a moment later. “You working tomorrow?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck. Theo shakes his head and tries not to be bitter. They’ve had this conversation four times in the last three days.

“Week off because of the reaping.” Theo says. His dad flinches back from the mention. “Do you want to go to mom’s grave tomorrow? We can lay some flowers down for her and Tara.” He offers up.

“Gotta work. But we can go during lunch if you stop by the office.” His dad sighs. “I should go to bed. Sleep some of this off.” He says. “Love you, kiddo. Good night.” He departs before Theo can answer and he closes his eyes, a shaky breath leaving him.

The day passes in a haze. They aren’t alone when they go to the cemetery. Tara’s friends are there to pay respects to their fallen friend and a few that knew his mother. Theo shrugs off their whispers as best as he can and tries to shield his father from it. He’s already barely hanging on day after day. He doesn’t need to be reminded of their loss again and again. Theo understands the gaping wound in his father’s chest because he feels the same way. He’s just better at hiding it.

What’s most surprising is that Josh and Brett are also at the graves, laying down a small bouquet of forget-me-nots. “Mr. Raeken. Theo.” Brett says softly as he steps back to give them space. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Theo’s dad manages a strained smile and claps Brett on the arm. “It’s good to see you. And Josh, too.” He says. “You’re always welcome here. You were friends of Tara’s and Connie...” His voice trembles for a moment and he clears his throat. “She loved you both dearly.”

“Satomi would like you both to come over for dinner tonight.” Brett says, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “If you’re feeling up for it.”

“We can’t-“ Theo starts.

“I’d love that.” His dad smiles. “Would you boys give Theo and I a few minutes with our family?”

“Yes, sir.” Josh answers. He takes Brett by the hand and leads him away, offering Theo an apologetic smile.

“Dad, we don’t have to go.” Theo says softly as they step closer to the graves. “I know today isn’t easy for you.”

“Satomi isn’t the one I blame.” His dad puts a hand on Theo’s arm. “It’s time I told her that.”

“I think she’d like that.” Theo manages a smile and takes the lilies that his father is holding, kneeling down to set them on Tara’s grave. “Hey, big sis.” He says while his father lays down roses on his mother’s grave. “Miss you, Tara. So fucking much.” He whispers. He can still remember ten years prior when Tara’s name had been reaped. She’d been one of the first tributes to die in the games. It hadn’t even been another tribute that had killed her. She’d drowned trying to cross a lake in the middle of a storm in the arena. Satomi’s hard work in training her had all been for nothing. Less than twelve hours later, Theo’s mom had taken her own life and left him and his father to grieve.

Much to Theo’s surprise, dinner goes off without a hitch. Satomi and his father make amends in the kitchen while Theo and his friends wait in the living room. For the first time in years, Theo thinks his dad looks...well, happy probably isn’t the right word. But he’s content. There aren’t dark shadows haunting his eyes or a strain to every laugh. Theo can almost believe that things will be okay. That the reaping isn’t still hanging over their heads like a guillotine searching for its next victim. He doesn’t sleep the next two nights. 

The morning of the reaping is a cold one. Theo dresses himself in all black as he’s done every year since Tara’s death and joins Josh and Brett as they make their way to the square. Brett holds Josh close and kisses him hard before they split apart and Theo’s insides clench. They go to join the other potential tributes while Brett stands with the victors of District 3. Theo lines himself up with Josh and the other boys and tries not to let his fear show. All it takes is a few deep breaths for his mask to slip into place. Josh’s hand finds his own as the crowd is called to be silent. A woman with purple and white hair clears her throat as she takes the microphone. She delivers a bullshit speech about the importance of the tributes, but Theo knows it’s a warning. It always is. 

She draws the name of a girl first, unfolding a slip of paper and turning her gaze to the crowd. “Lydia Martin.” She says crisply. Theo closes his eyes as a low murmur sweeps through the crowd. He knows Lydia. They’d grown up together and taken most of the same classes. When Tara had died, Theo had fallen behind in school and Lydia had been the one to help him pick up the pieces and save his GPA. He can’t believe she’s the one going. He turns with the rest of the crowd and watches as the solemn faced strawberry blonde steps into the aisle and marches toward the stage. She stands stoically beside the woman who called her name. No one volunteers for her. 

The woman draws a male name next and Josh’s fingers tighten around his own. He takes a deep breath, but it’s punched out of him in the next second. “Josh Diaz.” Another murmur ripples through the crowd and every eye turns their way. Josh’s fingers go slack in his hand. He takes a shaky step past Theo toward the aisle and it spurs him into moving. 

“I volunteer!” He shoves Josh back into place and steps out, heart racing in his chest. There’s another wave of shock through the crowd. He feels Josh grab for his wrist and he shakes him off, already moving forward. “I volunteer as tribute.” He says, making sure no one can mistake his words. 

“It appears there’s been a change.” The woman says. She waits for him to walk onto the stage, an excited smile curling her lips. “And what is your name, dear?” 

“Theo Raeken.” He whispers. As he looks out at the crowd, he sees Josh screaming and fighting back as an armed Peacemaker drags him off. 

“ ** _NO!_** ” Brett’s howl of pain makes Theo’s stomach twist in guilt. The Peacemakers take him as well and Theo swallows past the tight knot in his throat. He knows he’ll get to see them again, he’ll get a chance to say his goodbyes with his family and friends. But that doesn’t mean his heart isn’t already breaking apart. 

\- 

Liam wipes sweat from his brow and takes a moment, resting his arm against the tree he’s been hacking away at. He lowers his axe and lets the blade lean against his boots, dropping his forehead against his arm with a quiet groan. He can’t wait to get home and shower off the grime and dirt of the day. His shoulders are throbbing as they often are at the end of the day. Judging from where the sun is hitting the back of his neck, it’s close to the end of his shift. He steps back and lifts his axe back up, taking another swing at the base of the tree. It takes a few more strong hits for it to show any signs of wobbling and soon, it’s tumbling to the forest floor. 

He leans back and presses the heels of his palms to his lower back, groaning as his muscles throb in protest. He collects his axe and makes his way through his grid, whistling to himself as he hands over his tool to a Peacekeeper. It’s a short ride on the railway to his home after that and he steps off, taking a deep breath as he rolls his shoulders back. There’s the smell of fresh baked goods and a home cooked meal wafting through the air, hurrying his footsteps home. He takes off his work boots outside his house and fishes his keys from his pockets, stepping inside. 

“Hey ma, I’m home!” He calls out, tugging his shirt over his head. He uses it to mop excess sweat from his body and makes his way to the laundry room, stripping down to his boxers. He tosses the load in the washing machine and adds soap, starting it up. “Dad home yet?” 

“He stopped by the market to get some bread, he should be home in a few minutes. How was work?” He follows her voice to the kitchen and grins, watching her close the oven. She’s got an apron wrapped around her waist, a gift he’d given her during their last holiday, and her hair pulled back in a messy bun. “You are going to shower, aren’t you?” 

“Absolutely.” Liam assures. “After dinner, I’m going out with Mason and Corey for a bit. Is that okay?” 

“Just be careful.” She replies, setting the timer on the microwave. “Go shower, dear. David should be here when you’re out and we can sit down for dinner together.” 

“Cool. Love you.” Beaming, he heads for the bathroom. He lets the water warm up as he loses his boxers and stands in front of his mirror. By the time he brushes his teeth, steam fills the room and he hops under the spray. The hot water beats down on him and he groans, muscles slowly releasing some of the tension and strain from the day. He’s drained by the time he finally steps out, but he’s happy. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he heads quickly to his bedroom to get dressed and goes to the dining room. “Hey, pops.” He greets, pulling back his chair to take a seat. 

“Right on time.” David chuckles and lifts a pitcher of water, pouring Liam a glass. “What are you and your friends doing tonight?” 

“We thought we’d just walk around town and see if anything fun is going on.” Liam says. “You know, just taking it one day at a time.” The reaping is only two days away, but Liam isn’t worried. It’s his last one and he’ll finally get to join Corey and Mason and relax. He knows he’s got nothing to worry about. There are plenty of kids who have their names multiple times due to needing the tessera, a year’s worth of oil and grain, but Liam doesn’t. He’s never had to worry about that with his step-dad as a doctor. 

“Just don’t stay out too late. You promised to help me harvest some of my strawberries tomorrow.” His mother says as she lowers a pot roast onto the table. “I’m making your favorite dessert from them.” 

“Strawberry shortcake?” Liam licks his lips at the thought, grinning. “You’re the best and I love you. Have I told you that lately?” 

“Only a million times. But once more wont hurt.” She laughs and takes a seat. David gets to work cutting up the pot roast and sliding some onto each of their plates, along with a healthy portion of potatoes and vegetables. Liam dives right in, trying not to moan as the meat melts in his mouth. He knows what his mom is doing. She’s making all of his favorites just like she does every year in the days before the reaping. They’ve never dealt with family or close friends being chosen, but his mom always tells him that he shouldn’t be so cocky. 

“Well, make it a million and one. I love you.” Liam says sincerely. Dinner goes on like it always does. It’s the most normal thing in the world and Liam is grateful that his mom isn’t making a big deal out of things. She hasn’t cried in the last two years when it comes to reapings, but Liam knows she’s always been afraid. He doesn’t hold it against her. If he’s ever a parent, he’s fairly sure he’d feel the same way. Unless his kid was an absolute shit. He banishes the thought with a wince, knowing it’s wrong. 

An hour later, he grabs his favorite jacket and bids his parents good night on his way out the door. Corey and Mason are waiting at their usual spot in the park, a plain wooden bench that’s tucked away from the rest of the world by a wall of bushes and vines. He ducks in through the narrow gap and Mason holds out a brown paper bag, grinning at him. “Hey,” he greets. “About time.” 

“You know how mom gets.” Liam says, pulling a bottle of wine from the bag. “Damn, you went for the good stuff.” He says, dropping down on the free end of the bench. He stretches his legs out in front of him and unscrews the top off the bottle, taking a deep swig of it. “Can you believe we’ve made it?” He laughs. 

“Hey, you’ve still got two days.” Mason points at him. “But as soon as it’s over, we are throwing the biggest goddamn party this town has ever seen.” 

“You’re starting to sound like my mom,” Liam snorts. “Two days is nothing. I’m practically home free.” 

“True enough.” Mason nods sagely and lifts his bottle up. “I propose a toast to us.” 

“What are we celebrating?” Liam asks, raising his bottle without question. 

“Us. For making it this far. Even with some of the odds stacked against us, we’re still here.” Corey says as he leans forward to join in. 

“Here’s to us. In two days, Liam’s shackles to the system will be gone and we can do whatever the fuck we want.” Mason says. 

“Within reason,” Liam amends. It’s not like they’re going to torch the city or do anything drastic. But he fully expects them to get severely drunk and cause a little harmless chaos. They clink their bottles together and Liam closes his eyes, taking another gulp from the bottle. Life doesn’t get much better than this. 

The day of the reaping, Liam feels like he’s on top of the world. He gets dressed and hugs his parents tight and promises to see them after the tributes are selected. He joins Corey and Mason, giving them the same treatment as his parents. Mason gives him a high five and Liam goes to stand in line with the other boys. He lets himself relax and doesn’t bother paying attention to the woman standing onstage. He’s just counting down the minutes until the celebration can begin. 

“Hayden Romero.” The familiar name makes Liam’s spine go stiff. He snaps his head around to find his ex-girlfriend walking into the aisle, her chin held high and her posture rigid. She makes her way to the stage and turns, nostrils flaring in anger as she faces the crowd. Liam’s heart aches for her. Hayden’s only family is her older sister and they’ve been inseparable for as long as he’s known Hayden. Her sister won’t take the loss easily. But Liam knows Hayden. She won’t go down without a fight. 

“Liam.” Someone hisses next to him. He frowns and raises a brow. Everyone is looking back at him and his skin prickles in unease. The woman at the microphone clears her throat and repeats the name she’s called. His name. 

“Oh.” He whispers. He steps numbly past his friends and trudges toward the stage, his feet carrying him on autopilot as his mind begins to race. This can’t be happening. He steps onto the platform beside Hayden and glances at her from the corner of his eye. Her jaw twitches, but otherwise she doesn’t react. Liam wishes he had her strength. Right now, he feels like his entire world is breaking apart. So much for his celebration.


	2. Chapter 2

Theo doesn’t pay attention to where the Peacekeepers are leading him. Lydia is right next to him, her head held high as they approached a tall white building. Cameras follow them until they walk through the door and Theo releases a shaky breath. He’s guided into a sitting room and a Peacekeeper is posted just outside. He doesn’t want to think about it, but his mind drifts back to being led into one of these rooms years back. He closes his eyes and thinks of how Tara had looked the last time he had seen her in person. She’d been sitting in the same seat as him, pinning a yellow ribbon in her hair that Theo had given her for good luck. His throat constricts and he shudders, digging his nails into his thighs.

The door opens and he jerks his head up, lips parting as his father walks into the room. He shuts it and falls to his knees in front of Theo, a torn sob escaping as he throws himself at his son. Theo wraps his arms around his shoulders and holds him close. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I couldn’t let it be him. I couldn’t.” He says. It takes everything in him not to start crying. He knows that he can’t allow himself to be upset. There will be cameras on him again as he and Lydia are boarding the train. Any sign of perceived weakness will put a target on his back during the games.

“I can’t lose you,” his dad cries against Theo’s abdomen.

“You won’t.” Theo cards his fingers through his hair and smoothes it down. “Dad, you need to listen to me.” He says. “You can’t just waste your life drinking. You have to get better. Have dinner with Satomi and Brett. Keep living your life. If...if I don’t make it, I don’t want you to be like mom.” He says around the lump in his throat. “You have to live, dad. Do you understand that?”

“There won’t be anything to live for. My whole family...” His dad chokes on the words and Theo tightens his hold.

“I know. I’m going to do everything I can to make it back to you. Just make sure you’re here waiting when I get back.” Theo murmurs. There’s not much else he can say. He hugs his dad as tight as he can and whispers that he loves him. When his dad is dismissed so his next visitor can come in, Theo has to wipe hastily at his eyes and blink up at the light.

Brett, to his credit, isn’t crying. Instead, he’s the picture perfect expression of fury. There’s a cold blaze in his eyes, his lips twisted back in a snarl, and Theo leans away from his clenched fists on instinct. “We made a fucking  _ pact, _ ” Brett snaps. He paces the room, too restless to sit. Theo shakes his head.

“That pact was about us. Never said I couldn’t volunteer for Josh.” Theo says. Brett slams his fist against the wall and the door opens immediately, the Peacekeeper putting his head inside. “We’re fine.” Theo says quickly. The last thing the public needs to see on TV is Brett being dragged out in cuffs.

“Yeah.” Brett says roughly. He turns away from the wall and flexes his fingers, shaking them out. “We’re good. Sorry.” He doesn’t mean it, but the Peacekeeper nods anyway and steps out of the room. Theo waits for Brett to take a seat across from him. “You just...fuck, Theo.” He says when the silence is too much to bear.

“I did what I had to. Couldn’t let you lose him.” Theo says softly. “I didn’t think about it, Brett. Is that what you want me to say? I volunteered without a second thought because I couldn’t let you lose anything else.”

“What about your dad? You’re the only family he’s got left.” Brett tells him. Theo flinches from the accusation and wets his lips.

“Yeah. I know. That’s why I need you to look after him. If I don’t make it...”

“I’ll have him move in with me.” Brett says at once. Theo shakes his head and Brett’s mouth quivers. “Why not?”

“He won’t accept it. Besides, you need to be with Josh. Start planning your wedding.” Theo huffs a strained laugh and his chest tightens.

“Actually...” Brett reaches into his pocket and pulls out the box. He hands it to Theo without comment, closing his fingers firmly around the box. “Not happening. Not until you come home.”

“I can’t. You need to marry him.” Theo whispers.

“And I will when my best man comes home with the ring.” Brett says seriously. “You get one token from home, Theo. Take this.”

“You need it. Brett,” Theo leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “You  _ have _ to marry him-“

“I don’t have to do a damn thing,” Brett snaps. His jaw clenches, nostrils flaring as anger bubbles to the surface. “You’re coming back to me, dammit.” He got to his feet and Theo stood as well, stumbling as he was dragged into a hug. Brett’s bruising grip came around the back of his neck and he shuddered into the other man’s chest. “You’re coming home.” Brett says as he kisses Theo’s forehead. “Do whatever it takes.”

As Brett leaves, Theo tucks the ring into his pocket. He wonders if he’ll be able to mail it back before he goes into the arena. He doesn’t want it to be lost when he’s killed. The door opens again and Josh comes inside. His eyes are bloodshot, cheeks stained with tear tracks, and he shakes as he falls into Theo’s arms. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he whimpers. Theo rubs a soothing hand down his back and nods, knowing he can’t argue. Given the chance, he’d do the same thing again. And again. And again.

“You’re going to be okay. You and Brett will stay here and be together and everything will be fine.” Theo says.

“Not without our best friend.” Josh’s fingers curl against the back of his shirt and Theo sighs against the side of his head.

“I did what I had to, Josh. Don’t throw my gift to you away.” He pleads.

“I just wish this gift had a return policy.” Josh tells him weakly.

There’s nothing else to be said. Theo hugs him tight and reminds him to take care of Brett before Josh is gone, too. Theo doesn’t receive any more visitors after that. It gives him time to collect himself and put on a neutral mask. The second he walks out the door, he knows he’s going to be thrust back into the spotlight. When it’s time to go, a Peacekeeper opens the door and waits for Theo. He’s checked for weapons to be sure that no one tried to sneak him anything and then he’s escorted from the building. He joins Lydia as she climbs into a car that’s waiting for them and the door clicks shut. He doesn’t recognize the driver, but he does see Satomi in the passenger seat and his blood runs cold.

“What are you doing here?” He croaks out, heart hammering in his chest. “Satomi-“

“Every year I have been the mentor for the games.” Satomi reminds him. He feels like he’s going to be sick. He’d forgotten all about having a mentor. It wasn’t as though they really had options. It would always be either Brett or Satomi. They had no other victors for their district.

“I was hoping you’d be here taking care of my dad. I forgot.” Theo admits. Beside him, Lydia lets out a small huff.

“Brett will take care of him. I’ve left an invitation for your father to move into my home while I am gone. I need someone to water my garden and take care of my pets.” Satomi says easily. Theo bobs his head in a weak nod. He knows she’s got turtles and a koi fish pond that will need caring for as well as a couple of goats. He’s pretty sure that his dad can do something that simple. He fucking hopes so.

The car parks and Theo peers through the window. He can see an assortment of photographers and news crews assembled and takes a breath to steel himself. Lydia reaches for his hand and he takes it, raising a brow at her. “A united front. We may have to fight, but that doesn’t mean we have to let them see that right now.” She tells him. “Together until we reach the Capitol.”

“Together.” He echoes, lacing their fingers together. She pushes open the door and they step out, heads held high as the spotlight shines on them. Theo’s even more grateful that he didn’t cry when meeting with his dad and his friends. He catches a glimpse of his reflection on one of the monitors hanging in the train station. He doesn’t recognize himself. The man he sees is cold and indifferent to the world, wearing a mask that nothing can penetrate. Inside, Theo feels like he’s splintered open. Lydia’s fingers tighten slightly around his own and he exhales slowly. He doesn’t look back as they cross the threshold onto the train. The doors hiss shut behind them and Lydia immediately releases his hand. She goes to sit on a plush leather couch, stretching her legs out beside her. Theo moves to one of the windows and peers out, watching as their home quickly fades while the train starts to move.

“Get some rest.” Satomi tells them. “We’ll be there in a couple of hours.”

Rest? Theo can’t even stomach the idea. In a few days, he’ll be fighting for his life against kids his own age or younger. He won’t sleep. He can’t. Not when he’s got his survival to focus on.

-

“This isn’t exactly how I thought we’d get back on speaking terms again.” Liam laughs weakly and tugs down the collar of his shirt. Hayden doesn’t even dignify it with a response. Blowing out a breath, he sits down beside her and slouches back. “Hayden,” he whines. “You can’t just ignore me. We’re supposed to be a team.”

“Liam,” she says as she finally turns her head to face him. “I know that I told you to drop dead when we broke up, but I didn’t think I’d have to be the one to do it.” The words sting and he tries not to flinch. The look on her face tells him that he’s unsuccessful. 

“You think you’d kill me?” He asks softly. 

“If it’s between you and getting home to my sister? There’s no question.” She says it with such finality that he wonders how long she’s thought about this. Probably ever since Valerie, her older sister, came home from the games. Has she ever worried about being a tribute and imagined who she would be up against? Once upon a time, Liam knows she would have killed him without question. But now? He’s not so certain. Her words are spoken with authority, but there’s a weight to her gaze that makes him doubt her. It doesn’t matter. He knows that she’s right. In the end, if they are the final two survivors, then one of them will have to die. He just hopes it doesn’t come down to that. 

“Right.” He turns his head away, chest sinking as he examines the train. He’s never been inside one before, but that’s because travel between districts is restricted. This is the only way in or out of the district. He’s only ever seen tributes and Peacekeepers coming out of the train station. He’s delivered lumber there a handful of times with some of his friends. Friends. The thought turns his mouth sour and he presses his lips in a thin line. Can he even still call them friends? No one volunteered to take his place. He knows that Corey and Mason would have done it if they’d been eligible. Mason’s the only person that would do anything for him. 

“Liam,” Hayden quietly calls his attention again. He looks over at her with a strained smile and she pulls a badge from her pocket, showing it to him. It’s what her sister has worn for as long as Liam has known her. She’d even worn it during her time in the games. “What about you?” She asks. 

“You’ll laugh.” His hand dips into his own pocket, fingers curling around the circular metal object. 

“I won’t if it’s not stupid.”

“So comforting.” With a snort, Liam pulls out a coin that has his initials carved on one side and Mason’s are on the other. “My mom always joked we were two halves of the same person. Mason and I did this as a reminder. I’ve always carried one and so has he. I didn’t have mine on me today. I was in a rush to get dressed and just...forgot about it. Mason gave me his.” He says. 

“You two like to destroy everything.” Hayden says. Liam hums in agreement and tucks the coin back into his pocket. 

“Yeah, well, we always thought we were on top of the world. Even today. I thought…” he lets out a wet laugh and shakes his head. 

“What did you think?”

“That I was untouchable.” He admits, barely speaking above a whisper. The rest of the train ride passes in silence. Liam doesn’t bother with conversation, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. When the train stops, they’re led out into a station that’s swarming with people and what feels like hundreds of flashing cameras. Liam keeps his gaze fixed on the ground as they walk to the car that’s waiting for them. He’s more than a little surprised when the woman who called his name takes a seat across from him, alongside a tan skinned young man that Liam recognizes at once. The man flashes a sad smile and Liam returns it, some of the ache in his chest easing. He knows Scott’s considered one of the kindest souls around. He’s the mentor for their district, alongside Valerie. Liam’s pretty sure that they alternate years to attend the games. He doesn’t pay as much attention as others in his district. The games make him sick. He knows he isn’t alone in that feeling, but there are far too many that like to place bets and talk about it in excitement as they walk around town. 

The woman next to Scott has vibrant green hair that makes Liam want to roll his eyes. She’s got a painted on smile in neon purple lipstick that matches the pantsuit she’s wearing. The gaudy colors are signs that she’s from the Capitol and he doubts she’s worked a true day in her life. “My name is Zetta Harker and I’m going to be with you until you’re released into the arena.” She tells them. He feels Hayden tense next to him and presses the heel of his palm against his thigh.

“And I’m going to be with you every step of the way,” Scott says gently. “We’re going to get you both settled in your rooms and then we can talk when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” Hayden says the words that Liam can’t open his mouth to speak.

“Where are we going?” Liam asks when he’s able to find his voice again.

“We’re going to get you settled in your rooms for the night. Tomorrow, you’ll spend the day with the stylists as you prepare for the opening ceremonies. But it’s a bit of a drive.” Scott explains. “In the meantime, I’d like for the two of you to see who you’ll be facing in the arena. The last few were just picked and they won’t arrive until the morning.” He reaches back and grabs some sort of tablet, holding it out for Liam and Hayden to examine. Liam’s a little confused as to how such a slim piece of technology can show TV the way this does, but he takes it with care and shifts it to balance on his knee. Hayden tilts it up a little and Scott leans forward, pressing the middle of the tablet to bring the show to life.

Liam focuses on the first two districts intently, knowing the Careers will be the ones to beat. From the first district is a dark-haired boy with a bloodthirsty smile and a dark-haired girl who walks with confidence, her eyes hard and resolute. There’s no hesitation in either of them. He’s pretty sure the girl is the daughter of past victors, but he can’t be certain. The second district shows a boy that Hayden murmurs is the twin of another victor, from a game a few years back. Liam takes her word for it. The girl with him has curly blonde hair and a smile that looks like she’s ready to take someone to bed. They’re all volunteers, but that doesn’t surprise him. The Careers are known for wanting the glory of the win. Liam can’t wait to take it away from them.

He doesn’t expect what comes from District 3. A fiery strawberry blonde who looks like royalty and a young man that looks like he’s barely holding himself together. He volunteered for someone else and from the shake in his voice, Liam knows it’s a friend. He can’t imagine the kind of sacrifice that takes. He’s never once worried about anything happening to Mason, never considered that he could have volunteered had Mason’s name ever been called. Something uncomfortable shifts inside of him and beneath the tablet, Hayden presses their knees together.

The rest of the tributes pass in a blur after that. District 4 is another Career duo with cunning smiles and bodies built from years of training for the games. There’s a doe-eyed boy from District 8 that can’t stop shaking and the girl with him is sobbing as she’s dragged off-stage by Peacekeepers while a woman from the crowd screams for her. District 9 has the youngest boy of the tributes yet, a boy who is baby-faced and barely looks to be fourteen. The boy from District 10 has a smile that makes Liam’s skin crawl and there’s a boy from District 12 that’s got a limp, looking like someone who was pulled straight from the mines and tossed onstage. Wordlessly he hands the tablet back to Scott and looks up at his mentor with fear.

“I’m going to teach you everything I can, get every sponsorship for the two of you.” Scott promises. Liam wants to believe it, but right now he has a hard time believing anything. This can’t be real.


	3. Chapter 3

“This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever had to do.” Theo says over a plate of eggs. Satomi’s lips press together, but she doesn’t argue with him. Deep down, he knows that she agrees. There’s no point in going and getting all dolled up for the Capitol to get sent to the slaughterhouse. He doesn’t understand the appeal. He knows that the Careers make a huge deal out of it and get as glamorous as they can in the time they’re given. Theo doesn’t want anything to do with it. 

“Just treat it like a makeover. It’ll be over before you know it.” Lydia says, sinking her fork into a stack of pancakes. “Satomi, is what they’re saying on the news true? That our designer is new to the industry?”

“I can’t believe you’re watching that crap.” Theo’s lips twist in a sneer and she rolls her eyes at him. 

“How else am I supposed to pass the time? Lifting weights in the early morning only gets you so far.” It’s a dig that makes Theo grit his teeth. He hadn’t been able to sleep in such a soft bed and had been up early in the morning, working out to try and keep his mind off of everything. He knew he hadn’t been the only one awake. Satomi had been meditating in the living area and he’d seen Lydia’s shadow under her doorway a few times. 

“I’m trying to prepare myself-“

“Children.” Satomi finally speaks up and Theo’s teeth click together. Grimacing, he bows his head and takes another bite of his breakfast. “You may not agree with any of this, but it is how it has been done for as long as we can remember. Few of us remember the times before these.” Something hot cinches in his gut and he mutters a quiet apology. He knows Satomi grew up with stories of how the world had been before the games. Theo’s heard a few whispered late at night, but it all feels like a faraway dream. 

“Tell me about the stylist.” He says after a beat, lifting his gaze to meet Lydia’s. It’s the only olive branch he’s got to give. 

“His name is Carmine and he’s only a few years older than us. He studied under Floreen Kevash, who was the stylist for our district until she retired at the end of the last games…” Theo lets the words wash over him, returning to his breakfast. As Lydia goes on and on about lights and technology, he lets his mind drift back to the intel he’d spent the prior evening gathering.

Using a tablet provided by the Capitol, he’d traded restless shifting in bed for digging up information on his opponents. There hadn’t been much to tell. It was all gossip podcasts and fantasy ranking bets that made his skin crawl. He’d seen his face plastered a dozen times across various websites and most of the comments had been the same: identifying him as a pretty face with enough muscle that he’d make it past the initial round. It doesn’t ease any of the anxiety that’s filling him. He’s going to die in that arena. When it comes down to it, he knows that he isn’t capable of taking another human life. And some of the Careers seem born for it. 

“...earth to Theo?” Lydia snaps her fingers in front of his face and he reels back. “I knew you weren’t listening. Satomi says that we need to get going. We shouldn’t keep our stylists waiting.” She tells him. He doesn’t want to get dressed up like a lamb for slaughter, but appearance means everything. If they can get donors from the start, he and Lydia will be set to survive for a while in the games. Fuck, what if it’s Lydia that has to kill him? He knows for a fact that he won’t be able to bury a knife in her chest. The very thought makes him sick to his stomach and he chokes on bile. 

“Come on, Theo.” Satomi’s hand covers his own and he grabs at it desperately, shaking like a leaf. “A nice hot bath will calm your nerves.” They both know it isn’t true, but at least she’s trying to keep a calm facade. It’s better than nothing. 

“Thank you.” Swallowing, he gets to his feet and is grateful that she doesn’t release his hand. As he follows her to the elevator, Lydia takes his other and settles her head down against his shoulder. 

“We’ll make it, Theo. One of us will.” She whispers. 

-

The stylists are nothing like he’d pictured. He’d expected bright colors everywhere and fashion that made his eyeballs bleed. But he’s greeted with two men in neutral colors, the only color coming from the gold jewelry that hangs from their arms and necks. It’s nothing like the wild hair colors and painted faces that he’s seen all across the news. The Capitol feels like it’s own world in that regard. Sure, they have makeup in the districts, but that’s nothing compared to the beauty work that’s done inside the Capitol. People can change their appearance on a whim! 

The duo help him bathe, despite his insistence that he can do it himself. It’s certainly more hands-on than he’d expected. He’s informed of their names - Thestle and Greer - and carefully trimmed with a razor. He waits for them to shave off his facial hair, but all they do is shape the beard a little and snip off the dead ends of his hair. “Carmine says it’s your best feature,” Thestle explains while fixing a lock behind his ear. “You’re going to look fantastic when he’s finished with you.”

“Can’t wait,” Theo grits through his teeth. Greer plucks one of his brows and he digs his nails into his palms, trying not to make a sound. How the fuck do women do things like this on a regular basis? They’re certainly better at tolerating pain, that’s for damn sure. 

“Almost done. Just wait until you see what he has in store for you!” Clapping his hands, Thestle spins away and grabs a bottle. “Now, close your eyes for a moment, darling.” A manicured nail pokes him on the nose and he does as told, resisting the urge to snap at the hand like a dog. He’s better than this. Better than these stylists who think it’s great to dress people up and make them pretty so the Capitol can praise their work and make bets on who will be the first to die. Taking a deep breath through his nose, it twitches as he’s sprayed with a cedar perfume and he ducks his head to sneeze. 

“Bless you, dear.” A tissue is pressed into his hand and he hears the two walk away. “Look at him! I’d say he’s ready for Carmine, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Absolutely. This might be some of our best work yet, love.” Theo opens his eyes to look at himself in the mirror. He has to admit, he’s a little impressed. He looks...edgy. There’s charcoal smeared around his eyes, bringing the color to life, and a faint dusting of pale peach eyeshadow with jewel accentuated silver wings. The lines of his lips are drawn over, highlighting the soft pout and making him look as though he doesn’t care about what’s happening. He feels like a warrior. 

“This is still me?” Reaching up, he brushes his fingers against his facial hair and tilts his jaw toward the light. Every line is clean and precise, making him look older than he is. 

“You’re a model, dear. Now, get up. It’s time for the main event.” Thestle says, urging him to his feet. “We don’t want to keep Carmine waiting. And before you know it, the parade will be here.” The least exciting event before the game itself. They’ll be taken in carriages down the streets of the Capitol, their faces plastered across big screens while people cheer them on. Theo knows this is just another stupid part in the grand scheme of things. Sponsors like people that have appeal to the public. The more he tries to connect with them, the more sponsors he can have at his disposal. And they can make or break the entire experience. He’s heard of tributes dying because their sponsors didn’t send the supplies they needed. Food and medicine are the most often sent packages, but he’s ready rumors about other items reaching tributes. One hear, a girl received a knife and took out two tributes before the muttations had been let loose on her. Theo still can’t quite look at roosters the same way. 

He follows the pair through a set of ornately decorated double doors, clasping his hands behind his back. A tan-skinned man rises from a leather chair and turns, flashing a quiet but still bright smile at Theo. “Mr. Raeken, I presume? Thank you, my dears. You can leave us to it.” He tells the other stylists. Greer and Thestle leave without comment, but he feels one touch his shoulder and he breathes just a little easier. He’s not alone. Even if they are sharks. 

“Thank you for having me.” He says, nails pressing into his wrists while he waits for the man to say something else. As he approaches, Theo takes the chance to study him. Unlike the other stylists, he’s dressed in deep crimson colors that compliment his skin tone. There’s a streak of gold through his hair curls, highlighted by interwoven maroon strands that gleam when the light touches them. But he doesn’t present himself as otherworldly the way that others in this godforsaken place seem to. 

“You look like a fish out of water.” The man says, clasping his hands in front of him. “First makeover?”

“Don’t really see the point in pretending to be someone I’m not.” Theo says, his own honesty surprising him. He waits for the man to berate him in some fashion, to tell him about all the ways a man should present himself so others perceive him a certain way, but instead he smiles. 

“I knew from the moment I saw you on television that I’d like you. Please, have a seat.” He gestures to one of the plush leather chairs at his desk. Frowning, Theo takes his place. He’s taken off guard again when the man chooses to sit next to him rather than across the desk. “I’m sorry, I’ve been rude. Carmine Vythe, but please call me Carmine.”

“Theo.” 

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.” He doesn’t miss the brief pity that flashes through the older man’s eyes. “Yeah, close but not close enough.” He huffs. “And now I’m here to be dressed as your lamb for slaughter.”

“Not if we have anything to say about it.” Carmine leans forward, bracing his elbows against his knees while contemplating Theo. “I’m not going to lie to you. This won’t be easy. And I’m not talking about the makeover,” he says as Theo’s jaw tightens. “Making you beautiful isn’t a challenge. You’re already a handsome young man. But they care about more than just looks out there. They want to see someone likeable, someone who stands for the things they want to see. My job is to make you appeal to everyone, yes, but that’s just a part of it. My goal is to keep you alive. With my help, sponsors will come flooding toward you. Once you’re in the games, you’re on your own. But until you step inside that arena, I’m going to make you a national icon. When you walk through that parade tonight, no one is going to forget your name.”

“Why does any of that matter?” Theo asks, his voice small and soft. 

“Because I’m betting on you, kid. You’re going to win. Now it’s my job to let everyone see the victor inside you. It’s not going to be easy. Plenty of fake smiles to go around and scripted answers that will put your teeth on edge. But I’m in this with you. Let me help you navigate this fucked up world so you can come out on top.”

Theo considers his words, watching the older man beside him. There’s no reason for him to lie right now. Compared to everyone else, Carmine feels like a breath of fresh air. His concern comes off as genuine and Theo can’t remember the last time an adult aside from Satomi has taken any kind of interest in him. He wants to win these games and get home to his family and friends. Carmine may not be the perfect ally, but he’s all that Theo has outside of Satomi. 

“Yeah,” he says at last. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

-

“About damn time,” Liam comments as the doors of the building open. Hayden sniffs at him, her nose twisted up in distaste, and he rolls his eyes. Despite being the closest thing he’s got to an ally, she’s still digging into him at every twist and turn. It’s exhausting trying to keep up with her mood swings. “Must have had more natural beauty to work with,” he tries to joke. It falls flat, but she still gives him a smile. 

“We were talking about our costumes. Is the car here yet?” She asks, descending the stairs. Her hair is gorgeously pinned on top of her head, twin braids crowning her. 

“Any minute now. Is yours as slutty as mine? I felt like a cheap whore when I saw the sketches.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m wearing the exact same amount of clothing as you and I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”

“Ugh.” Groaning, Liam buries his face in his hands. He doesn’t have time to lament over it. Hayden touches his arm as their car arrives, guiding him inside. Scott and Zetta are sitting across from them, the latter wearing a bright grin as she clasps her hands together. 

“How lovely to see you both! We’ve got half an hour before we need to get to the ceremony. Did you get food with your stylists?” She asks, her voice an octave higher than Liam would like for it to be. Why do all of the people here seem so fake? They speak at higher pitches, glamorize their looks so they look airbrushed beyond recognition, and indulge in whimsical fantasies that are completely out of touch with reality. He’s all too aware that he’s just a pawn in a game to them and it makes him feel sick. 

“We did. They’re going to meet us at the parade with our costumes, they just needed to put the finishing touches on them.” Hayden says when it’s clear Liam isn’t going to speak. He folds his arms across his chest and turns, angling himself toward the window to stare out of it. The streets are lined with curious faces, each more gaudy and caked in makeup than the last. He hates them all. And they don’t give a damn. He’s nothing to them. 

“You guys need to present yourselves as a team out there and sell yourselves to the crowd. Sponsors will be watching and you’re going to need their help in the games to survive.” Scott says softly, drawing his attention. He gives a brief nod and Hayden sighs loudly. 

“What’s the point, Scott? They don’t care if we live or die. Tonight we would just be pretty faces to them. What does that matter?” She asks. 

“You have to grab their interest if you want them to pay any attention to you. This is more than selling your looks tonight. You’re charming them with your personality so they’ll give a damn when you get to the arena.” Scott says, leaning forward with a more serious expression. “I know you two aren’t exactly fans of anything here, but this is about your survival. If you don’t put in the effort, there’s nothing I can do to sway the sponsors. You’ve got to give them the best damn show they’ve ever seen.”

“And what if they still don’t like us?” Hayden asks, her lips twisting down. 

“Then I hope the arena has mercy on you. Because no one else will.” Scott’s honesty is chilling and refreshing. Closing his eyes, Liam presses his forehead to the glass window and takes a shaky breath. 

-

As Liam climbs into the chariot that’s going to parade them through the Capitol, Hayden’s fingers wrap around his own. Wordlessly, she climbs in behind him and doesn’t let go of his hand. “For the cameras,” she tells him when he raises a brow. 

“Unified front. All smiles, right?” He has to raise his voice to be heard above the crowd, but Hayden grins in response. He can feel her pulse racing where it’s pressed against his own and he can’t help but feel relieved. 

It’s not too long before their chariot is set into motion. As soon as the crowds and cameras catch sight of them, noise ripples in waves around them. Hayden springs to life immediately, fake giggles escaping her as she blows kisses. She snaps one of the straps of her suspenders above her crop top and the wolf whistles are practically deafening. Liam’s not nearly as impressed by their costumes as their audience, but he remembers that it isn’t about them. It’s about making a statement. They look like slutty lumberjacks and not people that should be taken seriously, but he knows that he’s still got a chance to prove himself. They’ll be rated at the end of their training sessions and bets will be placed on them. That’s one impression that he’s determined to make count. 

His jaw aches by the time they complete the circuit, joining the other tributes in front of the President’s manor where a speech will be held. It would be the same as it was every year, something that thanked them for their sacrifices and wished them all the luck as they approached the arena. He didn’t pay much attention as President Monroe approached the podium, squeezing Hayden’s hand lightly for support. As the cameras focused on each tribute’s chariot, Liam felt his breath stolen away. He hadn’t paid attention to the costumes of the people around them, but District 4’s outfits were something straight out of a fairytale. 

Black bodysuits hug the frames of the pair, covered in wires and lights that glow electric blue. Intricate spirals and swirls tangle in meaningless patterns, leading to gorgeously lit wings that spread from their backs. They flutter faintly in the breeze and Liam feels a stab of envy. They look ethereal. There’s a crown woven into braids on the red hair girl and the boy at her side has his strong jaw tilted up, the lights reflecting on the silver crown that he wears. They look like victors. 

“Do you see that?” Hayden whispers in his ear, nodding toward their chariot. 

“Yeah,” Liam mutters. “The competition just got a lot more interesting.”


End file.
